


For Love's Sake

by yutaforyou



Category: NCT (Band), WAYV
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Falling In Love, M/M, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:22:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24779080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yutaforyou/pseuds/yutaforyou
Summary: “If thou must love me, let it be for nought except for love’s sake only”
Relationships: Liu Yang Yang/Qian Kun
Comments: 3
Kudos: 38





	For Love's Sake

“If thou must love me, let it be for nought except for love’s sake only” Yangyang read the line from the thin piece of notebook paper he held between his thumb and index finger. With his other hand, he ran his fingers lightly over the side of the paper that had been torn from Kun’s notebook. The man had managed to slip it into Yangyang’s pocket without the younger noticing. Subtlety had always been a skill of Kun’s, Yangyang could try his hardest but his eyes always gave away his true intentions. Part of him was glad he had this fault because without it he may have never met Kun. 

\--

Yangyang read the line over and over, Kun’s voice running through his mind and the memory of the first time he’d heard the poem flashed behind his eyes. He could recite every part of that day by heart if you’d ask him to. It had been raining, Yangyang always loved everything about the rain. The smell, the sound, the way it made the air feel. It was the morning of the first day of classes at the university. Most students would brand the rain as an omen for the school year but not Yangyang. Hope shone in the eyes of the sophomore boy. He had made it past the first year with flying colors and his heart raced at the idea of returning to class. First up was his poetry elective in the old building next door to the university’s largest library. 

Yangyang took his time getting to the building, he had made sure he had enough time in the morning to take a leisurely walk around campus before getting to class. He was five minutes early when he’d stepped into the building. He dropped his father’s umbrella, which had been gifted to him last year on his first day at the university, into the stand by the door. The stand was overflowing with students umbrellas, a few laid on the floor around it. Yangyang pulled his small black leather-bound notebook from his coat pocket and opened it to the dog-eared page. Room 117, he read and his brow furrowed slightly when he realized he hadn’t written down his professors’ names by the classes. He didn’t worry too much, they’d introduce themselves but he just liked to be over-prepared. He made his way down the hall to the right of the building’s entrance, narrowly dodging students running from one class to their next. Luckily for him, this was his first class of the day, he’s never been much of an early riser. His eyes scanned the small plaques next to the doors of each room, 115, 116… finally 117. He strolled into the room and quickly glanced around the room, looking for the professor. Oddly, he couldn’t spot them. He checked the watch on his left wrist, a minute till ten. He picks a seat in the second row of the moderately sized lecture hall. Students continued to file in and fill the spaces in front and around him. He didn’t get the luxury of having an empty seat beside him. He checked his watch again, five past ten, the professor was late. Not a great first impression but Yangyang didn’t have time to think about it because seconds later a man walked in and up to the podium. He dropped his briefcase on the table beside him and as he opened it, Yangyang took a minute to observe him. The first thing he noticed was that he was young, most professors at this institution were in their fifties, some were even in their seventies. Forty would be considered young in this place but this man couldn’t be more than thirty. His hair was styled back out of his face and his silver wired lenses sat low down on the bridge of his nose. His brows were intense and furrowed as he searched through his briefcase, pulling out a stack of papers and a small paperback book. He finally looked up at the class and because Yangyang sat right in the center of his field of view he made direct eye-contact with the boy. It startled him but Yangyang did his best not to show it. The man held his gaze for a second before speaking but Yangyang thought nothing of it. Or so he’d like people to believe, in reality, he could feel a slight flush show on his cheeks. “My name is Professor Qian, this is English two-thirteen. I hope you’re all in the right place.” Yangyang thought his voice was nice, it almost distracted him from the one student who stood and bolted out of the room. A couple of laughs were stifled around the classroom. “Happens to the best of us.” Professor Qian remarked, the corner of his lip twitched. You could hardly call it a smile and he quickly returned to a stern expression. It was quick but Yangyang saw it and he felt something stirring deep in his chest. The feeling intensified when the professor took off his blazer and dropped it over the back of the chair closest to him. His shirt must have been tailored because it fit him perfectly, only something made specially for a person could look so good. The professor pushed his glasses up with one hand while the other grabbed the paperback book off the table and he flipped it open to a page about halfway through the book. Then he began to read and Yangyang let his voice wash over him.

“If thou must love me, let it be for nought

Except for love’s sake only. Do not say,

‘I love her for her smile--her look--her way

Of speaking gnetly,--for a trick of thought

That falls in well with mine, and certes brought

A sense of pleasant ease on such a day’--

For these things in themselves, Beloved, may

Be changed, or change for thee--and love so wrought,

May be unwrought so. Neither love me for

Thine own dear pity’s wiping my cheeks dry:

A creature might forget to weep, who bore

Thy comfort long, and lose thy love thereby.

But love me for love’s sake, that evermore

Thou mayst love, through love’s enternity.”

The professor’s voice drowned Yangyang’s body in a calm warm fog and his mind had long left to fly into the clouds. When Professor Qian stopped reading it felt like the boy had woken from a long nap on the lake’s shore he’d spent the summer at. He was pulled back down to earth when the professor asked, “Does anyone know this poem?” Yangyang debates whether or not to raise his hand. When he sees the hand of the boy in front of him twitch, about to raise, his hand shoots up. Competitiveness ran through his veins, it always has. Professor Qian simply looked at him and nodded slightly.

“It’s sonnet fourteen by Elizabeth Barrett Browning.”

“Correct.” It’s only a word but the approval sends sparks through Yangyang’s body. Getting praised in class was always a high that Yangyang chased but this felt different somehow. Professor Qian kept his gaze on Yangyang for a second but it felt like an eternity while Yangyang gazed into those deep, dark eyes. The professor turned his attention back to the class and asked for an interpretation. Yangyang couldn’t remember what the student had said because he was preoccupied with Professor Qian. The man held the book firmly in one hand and had his other in his front pocket. He held himself with confidence but it wasn’t overt. It was like he knew he belonged right there, in front of the class, commanding the room. Yangyang watched how he breathed, how he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, how his eyes flickered around the room getting to know his students’ faces. He was completely entranced by the man and his heart ached for him to look at him just once more before the class was done.

\--

Yangyang had no idea how long he’d been staring at the piece of paper, engraining the curves of Kun’s handwriting in his mind. The sound of soft bed sheets shifting distracts him from the words and he turns around to see Kun stirring slightly underneath the covers of their bed. Their bed. They’d only moved in together recently but the reality hadn’t quite set in for either of them yet. Their, our… such simple words that seem to hold together Yangyang’s entire world. He puts the piece of paper back in his pocket and walks over to the bed. He sits by Kun, his body weight pushing down on the mattress grabs Kun’s not fully conscious attention. Yangyang gently strokes the side of his face and watches as his eyelids flutter open, “My love…” Kun places his hand on top of Yangyangs, “what time is it?”

“Quarter past ten. Stay in bed a little longer.” He presses a light kiss on Kun’s forehead and the man exhales as if the simple action released all the tension that his body held.

“No. When I sleep I dream of you but it’s nothing compared to the real thing.” Yangyang thought he’d long gotten accustomed to Kun’s sappiness but his stomach still does flips because of his words.

“And what happens in these dreams of yours?”   
“I could tell you but there are some things words can’t do justice to.” Yangyang’s laugh fills the room all the way up to the high ceilings and Kun can’t help but smile at his love. 

“Then I suppose you have no choice but to show me.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a while ago while going through a dark academia phase and I'm only posting now because I thought it was kind of cute, let me know if you like it and want me to continue! Otherwise, I'll just leave it as is. :)


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